


Soy Sauce

by Professor_Piggy



Category: Higurashi no Naku Koro ni | Higurashi When They Cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-27
Updated: 2013-06-27
Packaged: 2017-12-16 07:47:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/859663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Professor_Piggy/pseuds/Professor_Piggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life isn't easy, for Satoko. When the whole world is against you, even a simple errand can become a painful and unpleasant reminder of things you'd rather ignore. Fortunately for her, there are still things in life to treasure and be grateful for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soy Sauce

Satoko could feel her cheeks burning as she knelt in the dirt, scrambling to collect the coins from where they had been thrown, and she could feel the townspeople's eyes on her – the owner of the stall, the few customers gathered behind her, even the people passing by who had stopped to stare. None of them made any move to help her, not that she needed or expected them to - they all hated her. She knew they did, and she knew that it had been no accident when the stall holder had 'dropped' her meticulously counted money to the ground and sneered as she bent to collect it. It would have taken an idiot to miss it, and whatever else she was she was no idiot.

 

She was afraid, though – her heart was hammering in her chest, and she desperately wanted to leave the coins, to get up and run home and throw up, to be far away from the glares and the hatred. But no, she wouldn't run. She would _never_ run. She was Satoko Hojo, the last Hojo in Hinamizawa and therefore acting lady of the family - and though to the rest of the town all that meant was that she was useless, worth less than garbage, she would _not_ dishonour her name. Nii-nii's name. And she would _not_ fail Rika. Not this time. She had become stronger. She definitely would not break.

 

All she had to do was buy soy sauce. She wasn't quite sure why Rika insisted they needed soy sauce so badly when they still had almost half a bottle, but that was a mystery for later – right now she had a goal, and she would succeed. She owed Rika that. Much more than that. The thought pushed her fear away, somewhat, and her hand was steady as she snatched up the last coin. Making sure that her face was a mask of calm, she pushed herself to her feet and turned to face the stall owner once again, placing the coins carefully and neatly on the counter. She wanted to meet the man's eyes, to stare him down defiantly and show that she was not afraid. But he was a tall, powerfully built man who stood scowling down at her, and instead she found herself standing with her head bowed, muttering a quiet apology as she felt her knees buckle, just a little, and pretending she didn't know why.

 

It didn't matter now. Her uncle didn't matter now. He was gone, and she had become stronger. She would prove it – she was proving it right now, venturing into town all by herself in a way she would never have dared to just a few short months ago and keeping calm even in the face of the towns scorn. She had become stronger, and she would make Rika proud of her. Rika, who had taken her in when she was all alone, who had never given up on her even when she refused to so much as speak. Rika, who had taken her by the hand and guided her when she needed it most, who had helped her to become the happiest that she had ever been.

 

Because of Rika, she had become stronger. She had friends, a home, and – most of the time – she was happy. She knew, of course, that something as simple as buying soy sauce by herself did not make her strong – she knew, in fact, that she was still weak. Still useless. But it was a step, and each step made her stronger. Maybe, if she took enough of them, she would make both Rika and her nii-nii proud of her – and maybe then he would come back. No, he would definitely come back.

 

The thought made her smile. A little thing, but it felt good – not too long ago, she hadn't been able to remember how. And as the stall holder cleared his throat and glared down at her, she remembered why – very few people in Hinamizawa wanted to see a smiling Hojo.

 

“There's not enough here,” came the cold words as the man let her coins clatter back to the counter, and Satoko felt her heart skip a beat as she lifted her head to stare at him in disbelief. Rika had given her that money – they had counted it together, five hundred yen in small change, and Rika had assured her that it was exactly the amount she herself had paid last month.

 

“Are you sure? I was sure that there was five hundred yen there.” Her voice was soft, but surprisingly steady.

 

 

“Yeah, there is,” the stall holder spoke slowly, as though she were an idiot, “But the price is a thousand yen for a bottle.”

 

A thousand yen. It was a ridiculous price, and twice what she had – it was obvious what was happening, and the realisation made her want to disappear into herself. Her cheeks burned, and she could feel tears stinging at her eyes – but she fought them back. He had raised the price because she was Satoko. Because she was Hojo. Because she was garbage. Fine. She would go home, get the rest of the money, and come back. It was a long trip, but she had no intention of failing Rika. And she would _not_ allow herself to be beaten by – her thoughts were cut off when the expression on the stall holder's face suddenly shifted, first to surprise, then – for just a second – fear before settling on a too wide smile. Satoko knew what was happening even before she turned, and she couldn't help but feel ashamed of herself.

 

There, not two feet away, was Rika. Satoko couldn't help but notice that the customers who had been behind her had backed away out of respect, leaving nothing between her and her friend – and as Rika moved to stand beside her, she noticed the stall holder take a step back too. She couldn't blame him: Rika was smiling, as Rika was almost always smiling, but there was something different in her eyes today – they were cold, hard, and locked directly onto the stall holder.

 

“Good afternoon, Itachi. I hope you are doing well.” Rika's tone was cheerful and friendly, and her smile widened as she spoke.

 

“Rika-chama! It's an honour to see you again,” the stall holder's – Itachi's - stammer gave away his nervousness, and Satoko couldn't help but feel a little bad for wanting to laugh as he continued. “Wh...what can I do for you? Anything you like!”

 

Rika tilted her head and let out a soft 'mii', as though she were pondering what he had said, before nodding her head once and answering. “Oh no, I do not need to buy anything today – but I was passing and could not help but overhear you joking with Satoko. And I stopped to listen, because I thought 'Itachi is a good kitty, and soon he will admit that he is kidding and he and Satoko will both laugh.”

 

“Ah – yes. Of course I was only kidding. You know me well, Ri -”

 

He was cut off before he could finish as Rika continued, smile giving way to a small frown, “But I waited and waited as poor Satoko searched her pockets and you did not smile, and she did not smile, and when noone is smiling that is a terrible thing. So I thought, and I thought that because Satoko is my precious friend, perhaps it would be good if I helped you make her smile! Is that not a splendid plan, Itachi?”

 

Itachi was shaking now, and Satoko could hardly blame him. Rika was amazing – she was brave, and strong, and kind and good and so many things Satoko wasn't. But sometimes, when she was angry, Rika was very frightening indeed. Not that she scared Satoko – quite the opposite, in fact – but there was no denying that very few of the _adults_ in Hinamizawa were willing or able to go against Rika.

 

Itachi didn't speak, instead just nodding his head rapidly, and Rika smiled again. “It is good that you agree. That means that you understand why I had to come over and make sure that poor Satoko knew that you were not serious, so that she would not think that you were a bad kitty. Nya.”

 

The way Rika tilted her head and made paws with her hands as she meowed was too much for Satoko, who found herself biting back a giggle – as she did, Rika glanced over at her and Satoko saw her eyes, and her smile, soften and become more genuine. A moment later she felt a hand entwine with hers, and suddenly the fear that had gripped her so tightly faded. She felt...good. Happy. Stronger. Just as she always did with Rika. But her friend wasn't done yet.

 

“Of course, of course!” Itachi agreed hurriedly, hands still shaking as he pressed the bottle of soy sauce into Satoko's free hand, “I hope you can forgive my jest, Hojo – I -”

 

“Satoko-chan,” Rika corrected firmly, and Itachi flinched.

 

“ - Satoko-chan, the _real_ price is -”

 

“Two hundred yen,” Rika finished for him, smiling warmly as though daring him to disagree, and Satoko had to keep herself from staring at her friend in shock. Itachi flinched, and for a moment Satoko thought he would argue, but then he nodded his head in agreement and held out his hand for the money. Satoko let go of Rika's hand reluctantly and counted out two hundred yen – but as she moved to hand it to Itachi, Rika fell forward suddenly and bumped her, causing the coins to clatter to the ground. A moment later, Rika looked up, eyes closed and blushing, and let out a giggle. “Excuse my clumsiness, Itachi. But we must be going now!”

 

Then Rika was on her feet, Satoko's hand clasped in her own again, and racing off down the road as fast as her legs would carry her. For a moment, Satoko considered stopping to help Itachi pick up the scattered coins – but Rika's laughter stole the thought from her mind, and soon she was laughing too. And when they reached the end of the road and stopped for breath, Rika squeezed her hand gently and turned to face her with a smile as she spoke spoke.

 

“I am sorry that you had troubles today, Satoko. But I want you to know that you did very well today! You win one hundred points.”

 

And for just a moment, Satoko couldn't remember what it felt like to be afraid.


End file.
